Letra de We All Die Young - The Decemberists

It was late one night, I was counting out my stitches
Laying by the side of the road
I was a long time gone, slipping off my britches
Feeling like it's time to go home
Yeah, feeling like it's time to go home

And in this dream, Bill Tecumseh Sherman
Glowered at the foot of my bed
He was long and lean, he spoke in perfect German
And I recorded all that he said
Yeah, I recorded all that he said

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And he said:
"We all die young
We all die young
We all die young
We all die young"

When I woke next day, layered in the lashings
Feeling for the hole in my head
I was thinking 'bout my dad, thinking 'bout the nashings
Of all the bitter things that he said
Yeah, all the withering things that he had said